Only A Kid, But Hard To Scare
by SomewhatRevolutionary
Summary: In which Gavroche wishes desperately that he could join the others in the fight for Patria. R&R please.


Gavroche nibbled the edges of the stale bread slowly, his mind spinning as he surveyed the area before him, roaming over the familiar individuals crowded around a single table. Enjolras, Grantaire, Eponine,Marius, and Courfeyrac stood with their heads inclined towards one another, their voices a hushed whisper.

"Let's not scare the kid." He could imagine that singular thought circulating through each of their minds; he felt his blood boil at the thought. The kid? Maturity had nothing to do with age, rather with experience. And Gavroche had plenty of experience - enough, at least, to stand with the men so carefully planning their own fates.

Talk of revolution had been swarming through town like pesky wasps, the whispers of the cantankerous elderly buzzing annoyingly in your ear any time you walked down the street. Was it true? In Gavroche's mind, he tried to picture what it would be like for the people to revolt. His people. At least, this is what he'd come to call them.

Grantaire's voice resonated loudly through the empty room, snappin Gavroche back as he tried to figure out what the man had said. He huffed, realizing he'd missed his chance to eavesdrop, fixating his eyes on the man with a glare as Enjolras clapped a hand onto Grantaire's shoulder.

What kind of name was Grantaire anyways? Gavroche couldn't spell it; certainly the only way he'd learned to pronounce it was by listening carefully to the way the others said it. But then, Gavroche had no room to judge.

The townspeople had come up with multiple plays on his name. Gave-Roaches. Gav-Ross. Gave-Renches... And anything in between; it wasn't as if he minded. He'd picked his name because he liked the way it rolled off of people's tongues. It was a harsh name, a name that resembled the sound made when spitting. He liked to think that with such a name, people would have to muster courage in order to call out to him - he, the quick-minded and virtuous Gavroche. Just Gavroche, for he disliked the theft and selfishness that plagued his last name.

With that thought, his eyes flickered to Eponine, her dark hair tied back away from her face. Strong cheekbones and passion-filled eyes defined the girl he'd come to know as his sister. She was the only one he accepted as a family member; perhaps the only person who cared about him in a way that didn't always lead back to pitying him for the life he led.

Tossing the slice of bread aside, Gavroche sighed, hunger gripping his stomach and twisting it violently as he watched a rat scamper from the shadows, towards the discarded piece of food.

"Better the rats than me." Gavroche mumbled, giving a disheartened sigh.

"What was that, Gav?" Courfeyrac's voice came from his left; Gavroche turned immediately, pulling a fake smile for the man who'd come to be his mentor.

Courf sat beside him on the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest and nudging Gavroche lightly with his elbow. The smaller boy laughed quietly, bumping Courf back, eliciting a grunt from him.

"Stronger than I look, eh?" Gav teased;Courf allowed a smile to cross his face.

"You act as if we don't already know that," Courf paused for a moment then, ruffling Gav's stringy blonde hair, clumped with dirt and... Was that blood?

"You know we'd let you in on the plans if we didnt worry about your safety."

"My safety? You're all putting your lives on the line; you're worried about me?"

"You're young, Gav. You've got more life to live than the rest of us."

"I've also already lived through more than the rest of you."

Courf sighed, wrapping his ropy arms around the small boy's shoulders, "the people here need you, Gav. We're going off to fight, and that's our purpose, but not yours."

"I've been fighting since the day I was born, Courf. I promise it's nothing new to me."

Moments passed and not another word was said. Gav listened to the sound of Courf's steady breathing, his eyelids drooping slightly as he felt energy slowly drain from his body. The warmth of the room presses down on him, encouraging him to sleep.

"I'll talk to Enjolras about it." Courf said finally; Gavroche smiled, turning to beam up at him enthusiastically. Courf laughed at his goofy expression, running his hands through his own disheveled curls.

"Just as long as you promise to be careful."

"I will I promise." Gavroche nodded.

"Well, you'll also have me there to help you."

Tilting his head to the side, Gavroche responded slowly, "what do you mean?"

"I'm gonna help keep you safe, Gav. I promise."

Gavroche sat in silence, staring at him curiously, chewing his dry and cracked bottom lip. Finally, he leaned against Courf's side wordlessly, too tired mumble anything but the words "thank you."

Courf laughed, the action causing his body to shake slightly. Gavroche felt his eyelids close, exhaustion crashing down on him in one giant, assaulting wave. He tried to fight it off, surrendering finally as he heard Courf hum lightly. The last words he heard before he drifted into a deep slumber seemed distant, like a dream, and he was sure he had imagined them. Yet they were there, stuck in the back of his mind.

"I promise I'll protect you. I'll never let anything happen to you."


End file.
